The Slow-Eater and the Bundle-Dropper

This afternoon we had the first parent teacher interviews for the year. The kids have only been at school for 4 weeks, so the interviews are more a chance for teachers to find out parental concerns/goals than an in-depth feedback session on what the kids are achieving.

I didn't quite have a grasp on this when Climber started school so I was ridiculously excited about attending my first ever parent teacher interview. Ridiculously. I'm talking butterflies before I walked in. I couldn't wait to hear what the teacher thought of my darling. I was therefore ridiculously crestfallen when the only piece of personal feedback I received about Climber was that he was a slow eater. And you know, granted, he is a slow eater but at the close of that interview I swear I saw Climber's magnificent school career crumbling before my eyes.



Anyway, I don't know if it's the fact that this is my first year with female teachers rather than males, but I received a lot better feedback than that whole Slow Eating Thing. Which, I guess, is not hard. But still! Climber is in the top maths group, he is allegedly kind and empathetic towards his teacher and so far not succumbing to his tendency to be distracted by chair legs or fluff on the carpet, and actually buckling down really well and getting on with his work. She also said that he was incredibly mature for his age. Go Climber. Although, he and his best friend will probably still need to be separated inside the classroom for their own good, the teacher agreed almost too enthusiastically when I said semi-jokingly that they were pathetic together. As for Cherub, his adorable prep teacher nodded wholeheartedly at me when I said I had no concerns for him. She said he was very articulate, had lots of friends and was happy and confident. Which is pretty much what they said of him at kinder. Go Cherub. Surprisingly, she did not comment on his eating speed at all. (He's quite slow as well, you know you wanted to know that.)



My major concern for Cherub is how tired he is. Our school's plan for integrating the Preps is to finish their school-day one hour earlier, at 2.30pm, for the first month. This is good for him but a nuisance for me because I have to pick up the older child at 3.30pm every day. The two of us go to a cafe for an hour usually, but twice a week I put Cherub into the free after-care service. I was hoping this would help to gently break him into the longer days. Apparently not. Even the bliss of having a single pick-up has been almost not worth it, because Cherub just drops-his-bundle and loses-his-plot on those days and is by turn whiney, snappy or in floods of tears. Not helped by the fact that Climber dawdles hopelessly, always the last out after the bell. So although next week my life may seem easier on the pick-up side of things -everyone finishes at 3.30 as of Monday- I am wondering if actually life is going to be even worse. I'll be packing lots of tissues just in case. I'm sure he'll get used to it before too long, but meantime, what about my sanity, hmm?



Until he does, I'll be here, mentally reminding myself to count to 10. And intoning speak nicely to each other repeatedly. (If they could speak nicely to me as well, that would be good.) I am officially at the oh what now? stage (thinking it, not saying it) when Cherub breaks down, sad to say. I sympathise and all but the sheer number of plot-losses have put me there, what can you do? All these spats and tiffs and meltdowns wear a parent out. It's as if we're on an emotional tightrope and I'm the umbrella. Or something. Actually, it's like living in a houseful of premenstrual women and heaven help the lot of us when my hormones come to the party.

Exclusive.

Almost every time I read or watch an interview there is a little part of me that wants some of that action. A little part of me that whines I'm interesting too, interview me!! Ask me about my fascinating points of view. Well finally, FINALLY, someone has asked to interview me. And let's not dwell too much on the fact that I had to ask her to do it on her blog, and that the interview is really a meme doing the rounds of the blogosphere. The point is, I'm finally being interviewed and just because it's not an interview in the local paper where I get to talk about my tap school and generate heaps of publicity and clientele, or on some television show acknowledging my brilliant career (note to self, having a brilliant career in the first place might help here), well, at least it's a start.

***

These questions are courtesy of that stylish jet-setter, Fairlie. If you know her, I want you to picture her graciously showing me to my seat after a well-researched and fascinating introduction All About Me.

During the interview you'll see her smiling, nodding encouragingly and maybe referring to the clipboard on her lap occasionally.

Music plays, I walk on to the set, smiling. I'm probably wearing my new deco dress.



Fairlie: Hello Stomper Girl. Welcome to the Show. (Smiling and shaking hands)
SG: Thank you Fairlie, it's a privilege to be here. (Sits. Sips water nervously)
Fairlie: I love your dress.
SG: (modestly) Thank you! Just doing my bit to help the economy. (They laugh)

Fairlie: They're making a musical of your life. What is it called and how does the show-stopping big number go?

SG: I think they've already made it, it starred Liza Minelli and is called Stepping Out. For dramatic licence they turned Fixit's character into an unsupportive alcoholic and of course neither of my pregnancies were unwanted, but the rest - where I have a bunch of charming, occasionally quirky, tap students who come to me for dance lessons but really it's them who give me so much - is like a mini snap-shot of my life. The big number at the end is all razzly-dazzly singin' and tappin'. And legs. Lots of legs.


Fairlie: Cherub starts school this year. Will there be tears on the first day?
SG: I suspect so, if Climber's first day is anything to go by.

Fixit has booked to take the day off in preparation. But these things are often odd, I know my friend Astrid was convinced she'd be a mess for her firstborn's first day and then it was all such a blur and the kids were inside before she had a chance to take it all in, so you never know. I'm predicting yes though, because the Cherub is my bay-bee.

(camera close-up to SG's eyes, misting over slightly at the thought)

Fairlie: Is Sunday still your hair-washing day? Has this been a lifelong routine?

I take hair advice pretty seriously, especially if I learnt it in the 80's. Remember the way you had to look after your perm? You could ONLY comb (and never brush!!) whilst you were washing it during the application of the conditioner.

So somewhere along the track I've absorbed the hair-wisdom that less is more where washing is concerned and I only wash my hair twice a week. Sunday is just my only day for sleep-ins and leisurely starts, which is why it mostly happens then.

Fairlie: What is better - comfort or speed?
SG: Depends what for. (blushes) If I'm trying to get the boys in the car on a school morning, some more speed would be great. But on the whole, I like to be comfortable. This is why I -almost- never wear high heels.

Fairlie: In your opinion, what sports could be improved with the liberal application of sequins and make-up?

SG: Boxing? I actually dislike seeing anyone wearing a lot of make-up, particularly children. I don't wear much myself. Not because of my natural beauty, just because I hate how I look with it on. I think I prefer seeing my freckles... But I do like sequins. Adding sequins wouldn't make me watch boxing though. Or golf.

Fairlie: I'm afraid that's all we have time for. Thank you so much for taking the time out to answer my questions.

SG: It's been a pleasure Fairlie, thanks for having me. And could I just add that I am more than happy to sit in the interviewing seat for any bloggers out there with similar aspirations*.

(Applause, music starts, credits roll, fade to black)



*Just let me know and I'll email you 5 questions.